


Stop the World

by RichieBrook



Series: Contact [3]
Category: Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Dom/sub, Kneeling, M/M, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27915520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichieBrook/pseuds/RichieBrook
Summary: Alex kneels for Miles. That's it, that's the story.
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Series: Contact [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681258
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Stop the World

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired when I came across [this lovely photo](https://www.instagram.com/p/CIUjU1IHILW/?utm_source=ig_embed) while scrolling through Instagram.

Miles doesn’t let go of Alex’s shoulder until Alex has assumed a kneeling position on the carpet in front of the sofa. “Just like that. Keep your back straight. Perfect, baby.”

Miles’s tone of voice, soft but firm, makes Alex shiver. He casts a quick glance upwards and his eyes meet Miles’s friendly browns for just a second, before his gaze flits to his own lap again. His suit trousers cling to his legs uncomfortably, a not so gentle reminder of the fact that Alex spent way too much time picking out his clothes for tonight. Even Miles hasn’t bothered with anything elaborate: he’s in a pair of loose jeans and a plain white top. Alex knew tonight would be casual and yet he stepped into Miles’s flat wearing a full suit. Even his hair is slicked back, with not a single strand out of place. He pulls on a loose thread hanging from the hem of his white button up. He should have just worn a tracksuit, or better yet, jeans, like Miles. But it would have been like giving in right away. At least the suit gives him some semblance of control for now.

“You’re fidgeting,” comes Miles’s voice, breaking the silence. “Best clasp your ‘ands together. Rest them on your lap for me.”

Alex leaves the loose thread on his shirt alone and does as he’s told, entwining his fingers and laying his hands on his lap.

“Good, Al,” Miles praises. He walks around Alex and sits down on the sofa behind him, placing his legs next to Alex’s sides. Alex can feel the heat radiate off them. He waits for further instructions, knowing with a comforting certainty that there will be more.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“Bow your head a little,” instructs Miles. “Want ye to realise exactly who’s in charge, love.” Alex does. His heart has been hammering erratically since Miles opened the door for him not fifteen minutes ago, but the simple act of bowing his head helps it settle a little. He breathes out audibly.

“Good.” Two warm hands wrap around his shoulders. Miles presses careful thumbs into his shoulder blades. “What are ye thinking, Al?”

Alex sighs. He hates this part. “I’m thinking I’m an idiot for wearing the suit,” he says flatly. He can’t lie. That’s the rule. When they’re doing anything at all that resembles a power exchange, Miles demands absolute honesty or he won’t play. Not that Alex feels as if they’re playing right now. The air is too dense and stuffy, too full of promises that Alex wishes he could pluck out of it and hold tightly in his hands.

“You look amazing in that suit.” Miles’s hands land on Alex’s shoulders one more. “couldn’t believe me eyes when I opened the door.”

Alex glances at him. Miles looks genuine enough and he probably does mean it, and yet... “Let me change,” he murmurs. “I brought sweats. For after.”

Miles watches him - seems to consider it - but shakes his head. “You look mega, all dressed up for me. There’s something to be said for such a lovely view.”

Alex purses his lips. The stiff material of his tight trousers is digging into his thighs. “It isn’t exactly comfortable,” he tries. “Wasn’t this about helping me relax?”

Miles tuts. “No. This is about you being good for me. Something you’re not doing a great job at right now.”

Alex sighs. “So what - we’re just going to sit ‘ere? How is that supposed to help me relax?”

“Didn’t say you’re here to relax though, did I.” Miles’s long fingers stroke Alex’s neck. “I told you, just now, that you’re here to be good for me. To make me proud.”

Alex has to bite his lip to keep himself from making a remark he’ll regret making. He simply stares ahead, his eyes burning holes of fury into the fluffy carpet his knees are resting on.

“That’s what I thought,” Miles murmurs. “Good. Now. Put these in for me please.” He hands Alex a pair of earplugs and Alex’s stomach gives a sudden jolt. “Really?” he wants to know. He knows what this means and he _wants_ \- no, scratch that, he _needs_ it.

“Hmm,” Miles confirms. “You’ve been working hard. I’m hardly going to punish you for being bloody brilliant Al, am I? Put them in, love.”

And Alex does as he’s told. He eases the plugs into his ears, gratefully breathing in the silence that now envelops him, and then turns around to face Miles, knowing he won’t get the chance to do so much longer. Rather than telling Alex off for it, Miles gives him a reassuring little smile. He pets Alex’s hair, making Alex feel loved and wonderfully insignificant at the same time. He’s just here to please. To do as Miles tells him to. That he can do.

Miles uses the hand in Alex’s hair to gently turn his head so that his eyes are facing front again. As he pulls his hand back, Alex squeezes his own hands in anticipation. It’s not long before the feeling of soft fabric over his eyes cuts him off even further from the real world. The black velvet feels pleasant and familiar against his skin, and helps him relax his limbs as well as his buzzing brain. Miles was right, more or less; he has been working hard. He's been going through his days with new songs, new concepts and new stories hatching in his mind. His head has felt like it's been housing the entirety of a concert hall, or worse, the entirety of St Pancras Station, producing unending strings of phrases, exclamations and ideas meddling into a symphony of inaudible chatter.

The black fabric is tightened, not enough to be uncomfortable but more than enough to be noticeable. Alex closes his eyes behind the black cloth and smiles, then shifts a little. As with every time they do this, the beginning of a scene goes hand in hand with the uncomfortable urge to get out of this predicament and to tell Miles that really, he doesn’t have to go through so much trouble on Alex's account. But tonight his worries are short-lived. Didn’t Miles remind him just now that Alex is here to please him and do as he’s told? Alex couldn’t move even if he wanted to. His shoulders relax and he’s grateful for Miles’s clever handling of the situation; for making it seem like Alex is doing _him_ a service instead of vice versa. It makes it a hell of a lot easier for Alex to forget about the guilt he tends to feel whenever Miles takes time out of his day to pamper him. Alex hums softly as Miles’s thumb strokes the pulse point on his neck. He has to bite back a sound that comes out anyway, in the form of a near-mewl. He can't bring himself to feel embarrassed.

Miles leans past him, his hand resting on the back of Alex’s neck as he does so, making Alex smile absent-mindedly. Miles is most likely reaching for the remote. He’ll be watching telly for the next hour or so and Alex will be safely tucked away by his feet for the entirety of it. With all his senses taken away, it almost feels as if he isn’t really there anymore; as if he has simply disappeared off the face of the earth, and as if time has ceased to exist. He’d be floating if it weren’t for Miles’s hands on his shoulders, anchoring him safely to the floor. It’s the most freeing feeling he knows. 

After the hour is up, Miles will take the earplugs away first. He’ll help Alex unfold his legs and he’ll massage them until Alex can safely stand on his own again. He’ll help Alex sit on the sofa and then, only then, will he remove the blindfold. He’ll cover Alex’s eyes with his hand until Alex murmurs that it’s okay, that he’s ready. Miles will take his hand away and Alex will blink his eyes open. They will feel heavy. His entire body will feel heavy. And Miles will smile widely at him and treat him to a long, sloppy kiss. There might be more after, but only if they’re in the mood. But whether more happens or not, Miles won’t leave him to his own devices until Alex has landed safely on earth again. And once he does, Alex will feel lighter than he has in a long time.

But they’re not quite there yet. For now, Alex gets to float. He gets to dive into the deepest seas without having to fear drowning. Miles’s hands remain safely on his shoulders and they’ll pluck him out of the depths of the water again if he sinks too far. He’s nowhere close to sinking or floating or flying too far though. His head feels fuzzy and quiet, and Miles legs are warm and familiar on either side of him. Miles is probably watching a cooking show or a football match, enjoying his own way to relax. Alex blinks drowsily behind his blindfold and bows his head a little further down, enjoying the sensation of submission that washes over him. Miles will help him up once it’s been enough, but until then Alex gets to drift.


End file.
